


Sometimes I Want to Die

by BigDumbSpooky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Drug Abuse, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drugs, M/M, POV First Person, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDumbSpooky/pseuds/BigDumbSpooky
Summary: Gabriel Reyes has been pretty messed up since the incident in Sweden. Being left alive has done a number on him mentally and all he really wants is to be fucked up and not think about a certain Overwatch Commander. But with his metabolism thanks to Dr. Moira O'Deorain gave him, that makes things very difficult for the former soldier. Unable to face his ghosts, he tries anything to forget them.
Relationships: R76 - Relationship, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Sometimes I Want to Die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ayyyojay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayyyojay/gifts).



> It was requested I do a Reaper POV of my Soldier 76 fic. It took me... much longer than I care to admit to finally sit down and write it. But it's here finally. I've released it from my brain for ya'll to enjoy. Hope you love angst.

It had been years since ‘the incident.’ Years since the botched surgical attempt at altering my genetic makeup. Dr. O’Deorain tried her best, but her best just wasn’t good enough. I was still alive… sure, I guess… but this isn’t living. This is absolutely hell.

_Sometimes I want to die._

I was an honourable military man. I was dedicated to my country. I fought with pride, honour and was well respected by my peers and superiors. I had been told that I love my country just a bit _too_ much and that my way of leading and thinking was not level-headed. But we were in the middle of a crisis. Desperate times come with desperate measures. Decisions needed to be made, and indecision was going to get our soldiers killed. So I did what needed to be done.

I always thought I was going to die protecting my country. Thought I would be able to sacrifice myself to make sure my home remained safe from threats. But even that last desire was ripped away from me after the incident in Sweden.

I can’t die how I wanted to and I can’t escape from these damn memories of Overwatch or even Blackwatch. I can’t stop replaying these memories like a god-damn movie in my head. I can’t forget his voice as he barked out commands, the smell of the cologne he wore, the way he looked when he first woke in the morning… can’t even forget the feeling of his skin pressed up against my own.

“Damn.”

I twist open the lid off the whiskey I just bought from the liquor store not even 5 minutes ago. I drink straight from the mouth of the glass bottle, chugging it down as quickly as I can muster. 750mL gone in seconds. I’m used to this, drinking as much and as quickly as possible. I feel the effects of the liquor take effect moments later and for a moment I really feel it. I’m absolutely fucking drunk. It’s such a relief feeling like this. I stumble down a couple alleyways, not really having much of destination, and not even 30 minutes later; I’m stone fucking cold sober.

“Fucking bullshit!”  
I growl as I take the emptied bottle with my right hand and throw it into the brick wall beside me, the glass shattering into millions of tiny shards.  
“Can’t you just fucking let me have this!?”  
I questioned loudly up into the air, directed at no one really. God? Maybe even Morrison himself, I wasn’t sure even at the moment.

_I don’t care if it’s sad, I want to die._

I keep walking, aimlessly down different alleyways until I find what it is I am looking for: a dive bar. The kind you go to if you want some shitty cheap booze, shit drugs or a terrible hook up in an alleyway or bathroom stall. If there were people who wanted to forget things, this was a good place to find out how to go about it. And boy did I ever want to just forget. To not feel a god-damned thing.

I don’t let my eyes wander around the main room too much, but I’m aware. I know every person’s location, watching just how fucked up they are. Years of military infantry training does that to man. You must be aware of your surroundings, plot possible exit strategies, watch for potential attacks waiting to happen, and a multitude of other potential scenarios. Being ready for anything is what they drilled into our heads.

I go up to the bar, pull some cash out and order three double shots. The buzz is short-lived but it distracts me momentarily and is honestly better than nothing. I’ve wasted so much money on the booze, but I’d do anything to numb me and keep me from remembering my ghosts. Honestly, I wish there was something more I could do that could last longer than alcohol does. Because whiskey isn’t cutting it for the long term.

A familiar scent suddenly hits my nose and I quickly turn towards the source as if I just experienced whiplash. Was it--? I blink and glare harshly in multiple directions. Must be a trick of the light or some bullshit memory popping up suddenly. No way Morrison survived that blast, I barely did. And even if he did, what are the odds he’d come to this dive bar in this small town in the middle of fucking nowhere America? I shake off the thoughts and turn back to the bartender.

“Do you got any harder shit than this whiskey?” I growl past the last gulp of my double shot.

“Haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your business here?”  
A strange man asks me as he sits down on the stool beside me. Others near us shift their weight, turning their heads in our direction out of caution or curiosity and some people turn away for the same reasons and possibly fear. These kinds of people don’t want their lifestyles threatened or ruined by a new person showing up. Undercover cops or even narcs probably slip into this place from time to time trying to catch some sort of slip up so they can raid the joint.

“Look man, I’m just trying to find a way to forget the shit I’ve seen overseas,” I retort, sounding just as tired as I probably look. Because I am, I’m so god-damned tired.

“You’re not the only one here who wants to forget,” he casually replies to me as the bartender pours him a drink.  
“The VA just blow smoke up your ass with ‘help’?” As he looks me more directly in the eyes, probably to see if I break eye contact to not be caught in a lie.

I look him directly in his eyes, looking a bit annoyed.  
“No bullshit therapy is gonna help with the shit I’ve been through. I just want to forget that shit fucking happened and they don’t seem to understand that.”

The guy chuckles in response to what I said.  
“If you got some cash, I might have some shit to help with that,” looking at me more dangerously.  
I look a bit more hopeful to him momentarily, quickly killing the showing of emotion quickly, re-establishing my guard going back up again. _Don’t let them know you’re hopeful…_ A ghost in the back of my head whispers. I know nothing is there. Just former drills reminding me what to do, keeping me on my toes.

“What will a few Benjamins get me?”

“A whole lot of shit. Follow me.”

_Take all my money out the ATM and start a little bonfire_

I follow him pretty quickly away from the bar counter and he leads me into the bathroom, some big dudes follow us in, I can tell they’re his goons to guard the doors. The bearded man takes me into the handicap stall, locking it, reaches into his inner jacket pocket with a raised amused brow. I pull out five wadded up hundred dollar bills, handing them right over to him.

“You wanna test any of it out?”

I look at the different choices of pills and substances he had in little ziplock bags. Looked at him a little unimpressed and nodded. I pointed out the one I wanted to try first. The dealer immediately grins upon seeing my first choice of his options.

“Good choice. That shit should fuck you up if this is your first time trying it,” he states as he opens the bag and hands me the two crushable capsules with liquid inside. I know what these are for, I’ve heard about them. They’re eye drops that get you really fucked up for a couple days. Or so they say… We’ll see how they work on my body.

“With five Benny’s, I can give you a pretty nice sized batch of my recommended drops for a man such as yourself. To help you forget. But don’t fucking mix your stuff. That’s how you get dead,” he said with a bit of warning in his voice.

I take the two capsules, crushing them above my eyes, letting the liquid soak into my open eyes. While blinking I reply gruffly,  
“Yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot.” I blink a few times and hold them closed for a few moments to make the solution spread across my eyes.

“That’s what they all say,” he replied a little amused. Then he packs up at least one set of his recommendations for me into a pill bottle. Of course, they’re probably pretty high quality, that way I sample the real good shit. He’s hoping I’ll be back for more. And honestly… If this works… I will. And right on cue, he tells me,  
“Come back here if you find out which ones work best for you. I’ll give you a…. A Veteran’s discount.” There’s amusement in his voice and it makes me roll my eyes as I take the pill bottle of the different drugs he picked out for me.

“So what you just took was _Clarity_. I put in there _Forget-Me-Not_ , _Empowered_ , _Hope_ , _Comfort_ , _Sentiment_ , _Relief_ , _Triumph_ , _Bliss_ , and one for you to enjoy alone in bed called _Desire_. Mostly picked the stuff most my other Vets enjoy. Hope to see you soon. Or not.”  
The man unlocks the stall and walks out with a grin on his face, leaving me alone in the stall, as I put the bottle in the inner breast pocket of my jacket. I quickly follow the man out of the bathroom, and am quick to leave the bar to head towards the hotel I’ve been calling home for the past week or so. It takes me a while to walk there. I start realising, the drugs hadn’t kicked in yet and thinking how this shit apparently doesn’t work and how I just burned a good chunk of my alcohol money. I can’t really be surprised though, I’m just really fucking disappointed. My god-damn metabolism has been in over-fucking-drive since O’Deorain altered my body with one of her genetic experiments. Getting drunk, feeling full, anything like that, my metabolism just works too well.

_Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn all night_

I get to my hotel finally, I put my key in the door, hear the click of the deadbolt, and turn the handle. I pull my key out and toss it onto the dresser as the door closes behind me. I’m fucking tired, worn down, and I just wasted five-hundred bucks on shit that apparently won’t work. Well... at least fifty bucks for the Clarity. I’m not afraid to try the other shit if this won’t work on me. I take my beanie off, toss it on the dresser and start to remove my jacket. I still can’t believe these drugs might be bunk and a lost cause for someone with a metabolism like my own. I set the bottle of the drugs down on my ‘dining room’ table with an annoyed clack to the hard surface.

“Still playing soldier I see.”

I’m at the dresser, pulling my gun out in the top drawer, quicker than I have time to breathe. I look around quickly, scanning the entire room, including the door. My hair is standing on end on the back of my neck. No way. No way he’s here. He died. That voice cannot be his. That’s impossible. It just… It can’t be him. Just my mind playing tricks on me.

I slow my breathing, there’s nothing here. My eyes scan the room for a few moments longer before I begin to relax, setting the sawed off shotgun down on the table. I sit on the chair, begin untying my boots, and remove them lazily. I’m so god-damned tired. I slowly get up and start pulling off my shirt. I rub the back of my neck, trying to relax the alert in my body. I have to keep reminding myself that he’s not alive, that there was no way he survived. I somehow did and I had O’Deorain’s help to thank for that. He didn’t. He wasn’t genetically modified like I was. I work on the button on the front of my pants and the zipper, remove my pants and my socks.

I walk over to my fridge, pull out some leftovers that I had in there. I stick it in the dingy little microwave and warm up my food. Grab my plastic fork, pull the food out and take it to the table and sit down. I can feel my stomach rumble from smelling the warmed up food. I get a few bites in pretty quickly. Doesn’t taste the best, but it’s filling my empty stomach.

“I’m impressed, you’re still alive.”

The fork drops in the food and the gun is back in my hand. I have my gun pointed right at his pretty little dumb white-haired head, right between the eyes, ready for the headshot. I almost pull the trigger immediately but I hesitate. Shit I fucking hesitated. He’s right there and this hesitation could cost me my life. But how is he here? How is he alive? How did he find me? How is he so calm? Is he angry at me? Is he happy to see me? _Why_ is he here? If he survived, then why did he choose to appear before me now? How come he isn’t armed and pointing a gun at me? Did-- Did he miss me? I have so many questions. My mind is fucking racing. He’s here, he’s right in front of me. Clear as day, clear as the shotgun in my hands.

“What are you lookin’ at?”  
He says it with that stupid beautiful smile on his face. My gun hand lowers slightly, my heart is racing as fast as my mind is. I’m looking at those cerulean blue eyes, confused. He looks just as he did the last time I saw him. In his commander outfit, all clean-cut and proper. Damn did he look good in that outfit, even if I used to think he didn’t deserve the position.

“...H-How?”  
It’s all my mouth can manage to say, as the barrel of my gun points down at his chest. The shotgun is pointed directly at his heart now, no way will I miss. Morrison just chuckles as he glances down at the gun, then back at me directly in the eyes. He steps forward, the gun presses into his chest, I can fucking feel him at the end of my barrel. It shocks me even more, and I quickly angle the gun under his jaw with a scowl.

“Don’t fuck with me! There’s no way you’re alive. You died. You died that night in Sweden!”  
My face is intense, I can tell, because his face softens, and when he does that, I instinctively do so as well but I quickly harden my resolve as quickly as I can. How does he _still_ have that effect on me? I thought we were past this. We’d broken up long before Overwatch was dismantled, long before the incident in Sweden. He shouldn’t still have an effect like this on me. Jack takes another step forward, his chest now against my arm, he keeps his chin raised with the barrel of my gun pressed up against it. There’s so much confidence in his face, he _knows_ me better than anyone. Knows how I’ll react, knows what I’ll do. I can see all that in his eyes as we look each other in the eyes.

A pale hand slowly wraps around my own tanned hand that was wrapped around my shotgun. He slowly pulls the gun down and away from his chin. I literally feel my resolve melting as I feel the warmth of his hand touching my own. He’s fucking here. Right in front of me. Morrison’s blue eyes are swapping between looking at my two brown ones, gently bringing his lips together and licking them as he watches me carefully. I can’t stop him, even if I wanted to resist him. I don’t think I could, not like this. Not feeling the way I’ve been feeling. He’s in control right now, he’s in control and he fucking knows it too. I absolutely could not do anything as he guided my hand to set the gun back down on the table.

We stand there, in silence for many moments. It felt like an eternity. I could hear my pulse ring in my ears, feel it move across my skin and I’m pretty sure we both could hear my heart racing in my chest. We’re so close together, I can smell his breath as we just stare at each other like this. His hand is still on mine, but I can’t take much more of this. I can’t handle it. So I take my free hand, putting it on his chest and pushing him back. Then pulled my hand away from his.

“How the fuck is this possible, Morrison?”

Using his last name feels odd. It’s impersonal, but it’s also the usual for military men such as ourselves. By using it, it reminds me that we aren’t close, that we haven’t been for a long time. Apparently Morrison needs a few moments to mow over on what to say to me. But it just fucking irks me that he’s taking so long. I don’t have patience for this shit. Did you not think of what you were going to say to me on the way here? You came from fucking Sweden back to America, you had the fucking time to think of something!

“Answer me, dammit! And don’t be fucking cryptic with me. I’ve still got a bullet with your name on it.”

“I honestly have no idea how. But I’m here. I survived the blast, Gabriel.”  
His answer seems honest enough, even if he’s going to be so familiar with me by using my first name. His voice sounds as genuine as I remember him sounding when it was just us together, before the mess… that was just us. But his answer doesn’t satisfy my needs and I just look at him annoyed and angry.

“ _HOW_ though? _How_ did you find me? _How_ did you survive? Are you here to kill me? Finish the fucking job?”

“I don’t know what happened after the accident. I really don’t remember. All I know is I survived, was in a Swedish hospital as whatever the hell the Swedish version of a John Doe is. And once I was healthy enough and able to, I came back to America for you. But not like that, Gabriel.”  
He takes a step forward as his hand reaches out to hold my face. I fight every single urge in my body to just automatically lean in to receive it. I stay completely still as I feel his warm hand on me, it’s calloused from hours of training as cadets in the US’s Soldier Enhancement Program. I can fucking _smell_ him. His thumb gently rubs across my cheekbone and my eyes instinctively close for a moment. Then I quickly open my eyes again to shake my head, pushing his hand away with my own.

“And what? You just forgive me? You came back for me and forgive me like that?”

“Yeah.”  
His eyes are fucking looking at me so honestly. His voice is so soft that I feel my heart skip a beat. This sounds too good to be fucking true. No way he forgave me just like that. I ruined his precious Overwatch. I ruined Blackwatch. He ruined _us_ , he ruined us long before I ruined his precious Overwatch. He decided that Overwatch was more important than me. And I was fine with that. I had Blackwatch. But that’s when I started developing the problem with us...

“Gabriel, I’ve missed you… I’ve missed us…”  
He looks me directly in the eyes. He looks at me with those blue eyes and I see just how honest he is. The ice that I had been building up around my heart… Ice that I put there long before the incident… The walls I created so it hurt less to hurt _him_. He’s giving me the warmest look and I can feel the ice around my heart melting. I quickly break eye contact with Morrison, this is getting so intense. How can one look accompanied by such soft words melt years of icy wall building? How could I _let_ him get to me like this? How is it that I can let this man, the man who hurt me, the man who let our relationship fall apart in the first place, get past all my walls once again?

“Gabriel… I still love you…”  
My heart is racing and I quickly look up to him. I’m panicking, I’m not sure what I should do. These words…. These words are too much for me to handle. It had been years since I last heard this voice tell me he loved me. It had been years since I last yearned to hear them once again. Why is he saying them now? Here? I have to look away again because this is all just a lot to handle all at once. I barely have any idea how I’m standing right now. It is hard to look at Morrison when he looks so calm and collected like that when I’m here drowning in my anxieties.

Suddenly, there are arms wrapped around me. They’re firm, confident, and strong. He caught me off guard and I ended up stepping a few steps back with my back pressed up against the wall. I’m trapped. I quickly reach for his ribs and try to push him back with my hands. I look up to see him looking at me, eye to eye. He presses our foreheads together, my breath catches in my throat at how close he suddenly is. The only sounds between us are the sounds of our racing hearts and deepened breathing.

I look at him defiantly, and he just looks at me so serenely. He slowly loosened his grip and I take advantage of this and grab the front of his shirt with a slight growl. I try my best to shove him back, but he’s strong against my resistance. With the movement, he quickly grabs me by my bare shoulders and he growled right at me. Moments pass and now he’s looking at me sternly, and something about it makes my heart flutter down to my dick. It’s small, but I definitely felt it and I broke eye contact because I’m a bit embarrassed that it happened.

I try shoving Morrison again, and this time there’s a little give but he ends up shoving me hard against the wall right back. My breath gets a little knocked out of me with a small noise. Then suddenly our lips are clashing hard against one another. I’m quick to part my lips and both of our tongues immediately join together. This was all too familiar for us, our tastes and the movements we make together. We’ve done this tango before.

I quickly try pulling off Jack’s blue coat that he has on. He doesn’t need that when I am literally standing before him in my boxer briefs. My hands are a little clumsy removing the coat, I just really want it off of him ASAP. Our mouths are clashing over and over, Morrison’s hands go to my hips and pull me in close. I throw the coat God knows where then move on to removing his shirt. My pulse instantly quickens as I feel the brush of his skin on my fingers as I’m removing his shirt over his head.

Our lips became quickly reunited after I removed his shirt. I’m pushing him to move backwards towards the bed. His hands move to hold my head, taking more control of the kiss. And I don’t mind it at all, it actually makes me moan lightly into the kiss. My hands are quickly working the front of his pants to come undone. I get the button and zipper and I’m pulling his pants down, and he’s assisting in the removal.

I put my hands on his bare, hairy chest. My fingers spread out across his skin and I slowly part the kiss. We’re both standing there, hearts racing, breathing ragged, and feeling hornier than I’ve allowed myself in such a long time. We’re looking each other in the eyes, standing there in our boxer briefs and we’re stuck in this moment of time. It feels like years before Jack breaks the sounds with his voice.

“Gabriel… I want this… I want you…”  
“Me too… I want you, Jack...”  
Then we’re kissing roughly again. This time there is so much more passion than before. Our tongues are fighting for control of the kiss, but it doesn’t matter who wins. It is just us remembering the other and how we move together so naturally. God, did I miss this, missed him, missed how well we knew each other… I gasp for a breath, momentarily breaking our kiss. He is breathing heavily too, it makes me want to smile but I hold off on doing so. I don’t want him to know he’s still able to make me do that.

My hands are moving all across his chest and abs. God, did I miss the feeling of his skin under my hands. The hair across his body only just adds to the sensation as I move my hands around. One of Jack’s hands moves from the back of my head down to my ass and he squeezes, causing a soft moan from me. I bite his bottom lip in retort to his grabbing me like that, which makes him slip out a whimper. Shit, my blood goes straight to my dick and I throb. Fuck, I didn’t expect that to happen.

There’s a few chuckles that emerge from Jack, before he pulls me flush against his body. He leans in and he bites my earlobe, making me whimper softly and causing another throb.  
“...fuck,” I say softly, followed by my heavy ragged breath.

“I’m going to touch you, Gabriel.”  
I lick my lips, and I nod. God his voice is so deep and husky with lust, just hearing it made me throb yet again. Jack is quick to take control of the situation. He shoves me onto the bed, putting one knee between my legs, his other knee to the other side of a leg. He’s hovering over me and I watch with anticipation as he moves the arm not propping him up over me. His hand slowly moves down my own hairy chest, across my naval and his fingers slowly stop when he reaches the waistband of my boxer briefs. My breath catches as I look up at him, look into those ocean blue eyes.

“...Shit. This is really happening...”  
My voice is soft and airy, and suddenly as if to reward me, Jack’s hand slips under my waistband. First he gently rakes his fingers across my pubic hair, teasing me for a moment which makes my hips pop up off the bed momentarily. My body desires an actual touch but instead getting a tease which makes me glare at him, hating him for teasing my body like this. But that’s when he smirks and then he palms my semi-hard dick. The contact instantly makes my cock twitch against his palm and my glare disappears instantly. And Jack responds by giving me a gentle squeeze, my breath catches momentarily and then I moan softly. That’s when I start to grow harder in his hand.

“Fuck… Jack…”  
I see him bite his bottom lip momentarily, and my hands reach out to hold onto his shoulders and neck. My hands can’t really sit still as he starts working my length in his hand. I keep moving my hands all around his muscular shoulders before pulling him closer to me. He’s watching me with his calm blue eyes and it just makes me hornier knowing he’s watching me so carefully. Dammit, it’s not fair that he’s so good at this. That he knows what my body wants. I quickly pull him down into a kiss again. God did I miss this, miss him. I didn’t even realise it until… until this happening right now.

My hand slips between us, immediately pulling at his waistband to try to get his underwear off as quickly as possible. He obliges and works with me to remove his underwear, leaving me without his hand which momentarily sucks, but it’ll be better without the pesky fabric in the way. But he quickly returns his attention to remove my own boxer briefs. He is quick to remove it and grabs my much harder cock, making me gasp under his calloused touch.

“Fucking shit… Jack…”  
My hips roll forward into his touch. He is watching me so carefully now with a soft grin on his face, I bite my lip to keep me from saying anything more. But fuck, does he know how to push my buttons and I’m so thankful for it. And now that we’re both naked, he presses himself fully against me. Now I can feel how hard he is as his dick is pressed against my own. He wraps his hand around both of our cocks, moving down our entire lengths. It nearly makes me gasp as I throb under his touch and I move my legs to wrap around his thighs. He starts off stroking both of us slowly, a pace I am honestly thankful for because it has been quite a while since I’ve allowed myself this kind of pleasure.

Jack suddenly initiates a kiss after listening to my small moans and groans as he moves his hand between us. He slips his tongue into my mouth quickly and one of my hands goes to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. He keeps stroking our cocks together, it gets to a point where I can’t control my hips and I start thrusting up into his hand. Precum leaks out the tip of my cock as Jack breaks the kiss, watching my reactions for a few moments before I hear a very husky and deep chuckle.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Gabe?”  
I look up at him, breathing heavily and opening my mouth to answer but he rubs his thumb across the wet tip of my cock and I immediately gasp as my hips buck forward. I almost came right there, but Jack puts a tight grip on my cock that stops me. It has definitely been too long. Long before the incident in Sweden. I hadn’t known the touch of another person for years. And I’ve also been neglecting to pleasure myself as often as I used to.

“You can’t cum until I tell you.”  
He says it in that tone that makes me shiver, and I know the rules. They were established so long ago, but my body remembers. And… I want it. I want him to tell me when to cum. My pulse quickens as we look at each other like this, his hand wrapped tight around my cock. He’s waiting for my answer and so I slowly nod to him, biting my bottom lip.  
“Yes, sir.”

“What a good soldier.”  
His tone is teasing but it still makes my cock throb in his hand. Then he reunites our cocks in his hand again and begins pumping up and down our lengths. I’m moaning and groaning into his ear as he whispers sweet praises. Telling me what a good subordinate I am, how handsome I am. I hate what the words are doing to me, hate that he still has this power over me to make me melt under him like this. Reminding me of our times, back in the day where all we did was this on our days off, on the occasional mission and definitely on our vacations.

“Do you have any condoms or lube?”  
The question pulls me out of my headspace momentarily. I look at him confused and he repeats himself to make sure I understood what it was he had asked me. It takes a moment but I realise what he’s asking and shake my head. I had no idea… Why would I have those things ahead of time? I open my mouth to explain but he kisses me, slipping his tongue past my lips and I groan into the kiss. It’s hard to think when he’s being so goddamn sexy and perfect and just what I fucking needed.

“That’s a shame, next time then. Get on your side.”  
I do as he says, and he lays behind me. He lifts my leg momentarily, placing his cock between my thighs as he brings my leg back down. Oh fuck, he’s so God-damn hard. I want him inside me so God-damn bad. My heart is racing, my head spinning as his now freed hand grabs my cock. The arm under my neck bends at the elbow and puts me in a headlock. He applies pressure with his arm and it gently chokes me in a pleasant way.

“Fuck… Jack I--”  
I’m cut off as he starts to thrust his cock between my thighs and he pumps me in unison with the movement. Fuck, I have no idea how I’m going to last much longer. He is quick with his movements and working my length, spreading my precum across my cock to make it feel even better. A slew of curses leave me as he thrusts into my thighs and I feel his precum on my thighs. His arm tightening around my throat was almost too much to handle. But exactly what I needed to finally reach my tipping point. I can feel it, I’m almost there and I’m fighting not tipping over. He hasn’t given me permission to cum just yet and I don’t want to break the rule by cumming. So I fight the urge to tip as much as possible.

“You can cum--”  
Before he can even finish his sentence and say my name, I cum and I cum hard. I growl and moan loudly as he pumps my cock as I expel my orgasm. My seed spits out all over the bed as he strokes my cock and thrusts his own cock between his thighs in a similar rhythm. He keeps going as I’m still riding the high of my orgasm while covered in his and my own sweat. Jack releases my neck, laying his arm out across the bed so I can breathe properly again. And I take deep breaths, finally being able to do so as I feel the buzz in my head from my climax.

“Cum for me Jack… Please cum…”  
I whimper out for him as he keeps thrusting between my thighs, my hand reaches back behind me to run my fingers through his hair. My cock is still hard and throbbing, though it is a whole lot less hard than it was just a few moments ago. My orgasm made me feel so high like I was on top of the world, it makes me laugh a little breathy. I make the bold move to quickly turn around wanting to kiss Jack and take his cock into my hand to make him cum. But when I turn around to face him, I’m alone.

I look around and quickly sit up on the bed. Where the fuck did he go? He was just here, I could feel the wetness from his-- I looked down at my thighs, there was only sweat on them. My eyes are wide open now, brows furrowed. My heart is racing as I frantically look around.

“Jack? JACK!? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”  
I get up out of bed, not giving a shit that I’m naked. I went over to the table and grabbed my gun that Jack made me sit down earlier. I quickly check all my corners, go into the bathroom, check the shower, the closet and the windows. He is nowhere to be seen. I set my gun down on the counter beside the sink. I turn the water on, stick my hands in the cold water, lean my head down and splash my face with it. As I lift my face, I finally look into the mirror, get a hard look at my face and my eyes.

“Fuck… that Clarity shit worked…”

_And if I die before I wake up  
I pray to God there's whiskey and a chaser_


End file.
